CHAPTER EIGHT

      HANNAH SIPPED THE frothy cocktail Andrew Tyson had insisted she try, an island speciality involving fruit and strong liquor, and tried to soothe the ferment inside her. Now more than ever she felt confused and disturbed, and, more alarmingly, tempted by Luca Moretti.

      She couldn’t understand how one moment he could be so aggravating and arrogant and the next so sweet and sincere. She’d gone from wanting to slug him to wanting to purr under that single, seductive stroke of his finger. The tiniest touch had created a blaze of want inside her that was still making her hot and bothered. She imagined what he could do with his whole hand, his whole body, and felt another sizzling dart of heat arrow through her.

      She could not start thinking about Luca Moretti that way. All right, yes, his sex appeal had started affecting her ever since they’d left their normal employer–employee relationship behind at the office, but she hadn’t taken it seriously. She hadn’t actually entertained the possibility of something happening between them.

      Now her mind skirted around that intriguing thought, flirted with the possibility of—what? A fling? A one-night stand? Hannah was sensible enough to know Luca Moretti wasn’t interested in anything more, and she wasn’t interested in any relationship, much less one with a man who had sworn off marriage and children, and was a notorious womaniser. But she wasn’t the type to have casual sex; she never had before. And to contemplate it with her boss...

      And yet desire was a powerful thing. The sight of him in his tuxedo was enough to make her head spin and her mouth dry. The crisp white shirt emphasised his bronzed skin, and the tuxedo jacket fit his broad shoulders and narrow hips perfectly. He was incredible, darkly magnificent, so next to him James Garrison looked like a weedy fop, Simon Tucker a corpulent would-be Santa Claus. Luca was literally head and shoulders above the other men, a gorgeous, arrogant Colossus who looked as if he could straddle the world. The only man who nearly matched his height was Andrew Tyson, and his shoulders were stooped with age, his face lined and eyes faded.

      Luca had spent the first part of the evening by her side, charming and solicitous to everyone, clearly working the room. When Tyson had entered the opulent sitting room, Luca had slid an arm around Hannah’s waist, practically gluing her to his side. The bump of his hip against hers was enough to make sensation sizzle through her. She could feel the heat of his thigh through the thin material of her dress, and her insides tightened to an exquisite, aching point of desire.

      She’d never responded so physically, so overwhelmingly, to a man before. Not, Hannah acknowledged, that she had a lot of experience. Ben, Jamie’s father, had been her only lover, and while she’d enjoyed being with him she hadn’t felt this desperate, craving physical touch like water in a parched desert.

      Sliding sideways glances at Luca, she felt an overwhelming urge to touch him, to feel the rough stubble on his jaw, to discover if his lips felt soft or hard against hers. To feel his body against hers as she had that morning, and rock against him again, and then deeper still.

      Heat flashed through her at the thought and Luca must have felt it, must have sensed her response, because he gave her a single, burning look before turning back to address Simon Tucker.

      He knew how he affected her, maybe even how much. The thought would have been mortifying except that she knew she affected him too. He’d told her he’d been attracted to her that morning, and surely she couldn’t feel this kind of chemistry if it were merely one-sided.

      So the question was, could she do anything about it? Did she dare? She wasn’t looking for a relationship, wouldn’t put herself or Jamie at risk of being hurt. She knew what happened when you loved people. You risked losing them. She’d lost too many times already to try again.

      ‘Hannah?’ Luca prompted, and she realised she had no idea what anyone had been saying for the last few minutes.

      ‘Sorry?’ She tried for a conciliatory yet loving smile. ‘I’m afraid I was a million miles away.’

      ‘No doubt planning your wedding,’ Simon joked good-naturedly. ‘Have you set a date?’

      ‘As soon as possible, as far as I’m concerned,’ Luca answered swiftly, with a squeeze of Hannah’s waist. ‘But Hannah wants more of a do.’

      Hannah lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. ‘You only get married once.’

      ‘Hopefully,’ James joked, an edge to his voice that made a frozen silence descend on the little group for a few seconds.

      ‘What’s your secret to a happy marriage, then, James?’ Simon asked, trying for jocular.

      ‘A limit-free credit card and no questions asked,’ James replied with a pointed look at his wife. Daniela pressed her lips together and said nothing.

      Hardly a response of a family man, Hannah thought. James Garrison was a slick study, and looked to share Luca’s view on relationships.

      ‘I’ll take that on board,’ Luca answered in a tone that suggested he would do no such thing.

      ‘Falling for your PA isn’t like you, is it, Luca?’ James said, malice entering his ice-blue eyes. ‘I thought you made sure never to mix business and pleasure.’

      ‘As I said last night, this time it was impossible to resist.’ He glanced down at Hannah, who tilted her head up to look at him so their mouths were only a few inches apart. She felt her insides shudder even though she knew Luca was only play-acting. That simmering heat in his eyes might not have been real, but the response Hannah’s body gave certainly was. Her lips parted in helpless expectation, her whole being trained on Luca’s sleepy, hooded gaze.

      ‘Irresistible,’